Free Stripping Asjiah II by Sa'Rese Thompson. Page B

what if he came back for her?
    “How is she doing?”
Startled, Danielle jumped and looked my way. “Sorry, I didn‟t mean to scare you.”
“You must be Asjiah.” Danielle finger combed her
    hair and tried to make herself look presentable.
“And you are?”
“Danielle.”
I took a step back and watched her as she stood up.
    She was around 5‟6” with wavy auburn hair that was swept up into a messy ponytail and big brown eyes; eyes that had seen better days. She reminded me of a young Rosie Perez.
    After giving her a quick once over I turned my attention back to Keyshia.
“So what happened to her?”
“I…I don‟t know. We were staying in the same hotel and…”
“So you know her?”
“No…I was there with my boyfriend and I left my room to get some ice. I bumped into this guy in the hall and he had blood all over his shirt.”
“What guy? Do you remember what he looked like?”
“No.”
Danielle didn‟t want to say too much, she wanted justice for Keyshia but at the same time she was worried about her own safety. If she gave away too many details then that might prompt a police investigation and she was sure whoever the man was would get wind of it and come after her for ratting him out.
“I didn‟t see him. The storm knocked the power out before I could get a good look at him.”
She closed her eyes for a minute in an attempt to block out the pictures in her mind.
“He didn‟t shut the door to their room all the way so I went in. I thought someone might have been in there; I caught her justas she was falling out of the shower.”
I walked over to the bed so I could get a better look at Keyshia. If I hadn‟t read the chart on the door, and the nurse wouldn‟t have told me what room she was in, I wouldn‟t have known it was her.
She was unrecognizable. Someone had beaten her face to a pulp. Gauze was underneath her swollen eyes, tape and one of those metal splints covered her nose which had clearly been broken and a sling supported her left arm. I lifted the blanket to find that her ribs were tightly bandaged as well.
“Shit.” I touched her hand in hopes that she would know that I was there.
“Who would do this to her?” Danielle stood at the foot of the bed gently tucking the covers around Keyshia‟s feet. “I don‟t know.”
“She could barely tell me her name when I found her; she was terrified, her body was in shock.”
“It‟s a good thing you got there when you did.”
“I wish I could‟ve gotten to her sooner.” Danielle‟s voice trailed off as she looked down at Keyshia.
“Then what; you would be in the bed next to her? You shouldn‟t blame yourself, there‟s nothing you could‟ve done.” I patted the fragile girl on the back and handed her a box of tissues.
“What kind of bullshit did you get my daughter into this time?”
The sound of her voice made my ears hurt. It was like hearing someone‟s nails scratch a chalkboard. I turned around to find Ms. Livingston standing in the doorway.
Keyshia and her mother looked just alike; they had the same peanut butter complexion and hour glass shape except Ms. Livingston was a little taller and her hour glass was beginning to resemble a lumpy water bottle. Her good looks were fleeting memories, a plot to a story that would tell of her glory days.
In some ways I couldn‟t fault Keyshia for her behavior because ironically her mother taught her everything she knew. The motto in their house was “use what you got, to get what you want” and that‟s exactly what her mother did.
Ms. Livingston changed boyfriends like I changed panties and with each man that left, he would leave some type of expensive gift behind.
I don‟t remember her ever working. She had assigned bills for each dude; or as I liked to call them; her sponsors. One paid her mortgage, the other paid utilities, one took her shopping and another was responsible for keeping money in her Gucci wallet at all times. I know where you think this is going but her tricks never